Back When I Knew Him
by Captain Blackbird
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow, back when he was the captain of the Black Pearl Finally put up chapter 7 after my long absence! I'll try to get back on top of things!
1. Beginnings

 My first chapter is very short because the idea just came to me a few minutes ago. I'm trying out how it would begin.

(I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl)

~

            Black clouds traveled across the setting sun. It was a sign and Jack knew it. It had happened before, many years ago. It was something he didn't want to remember. He took a deep breath as he laid his right hand on the steering wheel of his beloved _Black Pearl_. What could be in store for him? He heard the winds blowing across his ships sails. It grew darker as the sun hid behind the horizon. The sky turned a brilliant crimson, reminding Jack of blood.

            Jack was in such deep thought that he hardly noticed when another man arrived on deck. The man laid his hand on Jack's shoulder, causing him to jump.

            "How's it be, Captain?"

            "Winds are good," Jack said, his heartbeat returning to normal.

            "Are ye alright?"

            Jack gazed at the last sliver of the sun as it disappeared. It was now dark. Jack usually didn't mind, he was used to the darkness. After all, being a pirate for five years would make you get used to things like that. The scream of a deadly hurricane, the thrill of managing your ship during a storm, the explosions of cannons while overtaking another ship. It was all a part of his life now.

            _My old life is over, Jack thought to himself. _I don't need to remember…tonight…__

            "Jack?"

            "I'm sorry, what were ye saying?"

            The man laughed, his stolen jewelry clinking. "I be thinking, Jack, that after so many years, this sea is gonna do something' to ye. I wouldn't be surprised if ye lost your mind!"

            "I've already lost it," Jack grinned. "What else could be done to me?"

            "Aye." Jack's friend leaned over the railing of the bow of the ship. He peered out into the now black sea.

            "Ye never know, my dear friend, what could be in store for ye." Jack felt the iciness of his words cut him in the throat. He raised his hand to his neck to make sure blood wasn't dripping. "A lot of us don't end with a good life. Those who do often are thieves."

            Jack looked again at where the sun used to be, as if his eyes longed for it to be there again. He could hear the sounds of the whales out somewhere in the ocean. The ocean. It was his home. He felt the sway of the boat, so familiar, but it felt different tonight. Was his boat against him?

            From what little light there was on deck, Jack saw his friend walk back up to him. His short beard was black and dirty from the sea salt. His dark eyes hardly gleamed, regardless of the light. The feather in his hat fluttered, threatening to float away out of his wide brimmed hat. All else that could've been describable features, failed to show in the darkness.

            "What do ye think, Jack? Do ye think luck be in store for us tomorrow?"

            A black cloud shrouded Jack's mind, as he remembered the darkening sky just moments before.

            "I hope so, Barbossa. I really hope so."


	2. Escape

_Strange……it felt warm……_

_ The sun……_

_ Soft sand……_

Jack opened his eyes, and quickly closed them. It was too bright out. This time he carefully opened one eye and then the other, adjusting to the sunshine. He blinked away tears from the sun's evil rays.

He groaned. "Ahhhh, my neck…" Jack rubbed the back of his neck. He was leaning against something hard and uncomfortable.

"What the…?" Jack turned around to look at a palm tree. He felt the rough bark. It was not the same as his soft, well softer bed back in the captain's lounge.

Jack sat up.

_This isn't the __Pearl_

He felt the sand beneath his feet. Warm and inviting. He heard the familiar waves crashing to shore. A crab walked sideways across the shoreline, looking for a mate or a home?

"Where am I?" Jack spoke aloud, almost expecting an answer.

He saw a sea turtle raise its head above water. It came closer and closer to shore until it had arrived on land. It began to shuffle its way away from the water.

Jack shot to his feet. He could feel his bones crack from the position he'd been laying in.

In an instant, despite the suns glare, Jack felt cold.

"What is going…" as he lifted his hands to his face, he saw bones.

Jack blindly and skillfully grabbed for his pistol. He cocked it and held it steady in front of him.

"Woah! It's me, Captain!"

With his other hand, Jack removed the piece of cloth that covered his eyesight. Before him stood a strange man, perhaps strange from the darkness that covered him. Jack sat up slowly and finally recognized him. The intruder held his hands in front of him for defense.

"Would you please…sir…lower your pistol?"

Jack released the tension on the handle of his gun and lowered it.

"Are you ill?"

The wide awake captain averted his eyes away from the stranger. He stared at his right hand, grateful yet astonished that it was covered with flesh, bone, and scar.

"No, I'm alright."

"Barbossa sent me back here because of news, Captain. He believes we are getting closer."

Jack placed his pistol on his pillow.

"I'll be out in but a moment."

The informer nodded his head in respect and left the cabin room.

Jack let his legs dangle over the side of his bed. He was glad to be back on his ship.

"I wonder if they connect…" he mused. Uneasiness spread through his nerves. He didn't feel right. A change in the winds…what was soon to happen?

Jack's gaze ended on a painting that was hanging over his nest. A sea turtle that was swimming through a clear and rippling sea was not paying any attention to the uneasy captain's thoughts. It had its own way to go.

_Relax _Jack thought to himself. _I've survived five years on the __Pearl__, why is there need to worry now? I am a pirate, I fear nothing._

Once Jack was set with his effects, he opened the cabin door to beautiful sunlight. A slight wind blew through his untidy hair. He could smell salt from the ocean. A million sparkles made their presence known on the blue waters.

Barbossa was at the wheel, leading the _Pearl_ to her fate. A trustworthy mate, Jack was sure.

He made his way up to Barbossa and stood beside him.

"Ah, there ye be, Captain."

"What's your news, mate?"

Barbossa grinned, gold glinting in the sun. His eyes flashed slyly. "I be thinkin' that we're on the right track."

Jack sighed.

"…All we'd need now, Captain, are the…"

"…Bearings," Jack finished. "Why are ye always trying to fish it out of me, dear friend?"

"I think it's only fair to the crew." Barbossa's tone had immediately gone cold. "Ye be leading us blindly."

"Have I ever given ye reason not to trust me?"

"It's not me. It's them," said Barbossa cocking his head towards the end of the ship. Jack's sailors were attending to his ship. There seemed to be a drudging feeling on them all.

"It's been three days without a hint of anythin'. It could lead to somethin' terrible."

"We're getting closer, I know it." Jack stared out to see. _I know it._

"Jack." Barbossa turned to finally look at him. Now in the sunlight, the rest of his features were visible. His skin was smooth and tanned. His eyes were a light brown, unlike the night before when darkness was his ally. They told Jack of times that did not want to be mentioned again. His black mustache and goatee gleamed with the light, although it was unseemly caked with salt and other things from being on the sea. His long black hair was underneath a wide brimmed hat, topped with a two purple feathers, a prized possession he had plundered in Versailles. His wear was well worn, but he still looked kingly and could be mistaken for a conquistador.

"Jack, I be thinkin' ye should let out the bearings. It's not that I don't trust ye, but as I just told ye, the crew is a bit shifty. There could be a mutiny abroad."

Jack sighed once again. "I thought I had picked up a more trusting crew."

Barbossa laughed, the sound ringing across the deck, allowing a few heads to perk up, only slightly interested.

"A trusting crew? Ha! Have ye ever thought, Jack, that maybe they aren't the problem?"

Jack narrowed his eyes at Barbossa.

"What do you mean?" he asked him slowly.

"Jack." Barbossa put his hand on Jack's shoulder and gave a distressing look. "Ye've told us that ye have valuable information, information that ye willn't share with us. Yur mates. Do ye not trust us, Jack?"

Jack looked back at his crew, who had finally gone back to work on keeping his ship. Not only was there a dark cloud hanging above his head, his ship, but there was a cloud amongst his crew. A cloud of rebellion.

"BLAST IT, JACK!" yelled Barbossa. Jack felt hands around his throat as Barbossa began choking him. "TELL US WHERE BE THE TREASURE?!?!"

Jack shook his head, dissolving what he had just imagined. Again he felt his neck to be sure hands weren't enclosing it.

"I'm waiting for the opportune moment," said Jack quietly. "Once I see…once I reach the spot, I'll know we're there."

"I believe it's for yer own safety, Captain. Won't ye PLEASE reconsider? Things be getting mighty dangerous out here."

Jack looked into Barbossa's eyes. He saw compassion only.

"Ye're a true friend, Barbossa."

"I've always been trusting ye, Jack. Can ye trust me this once? Yur one pirate I would hate to see meet his end." Barbossa managed a tiny smile.

_A change in the winds, perhaps, Jack?_ He asked himself. He knew he could trust Barbossa, right? He was one of the two people he completely trusted.

"Barbossa."

"Aye?"

"We be going the right direction, mate. If ye are right, then we should be reaching Loadstone Rock in but a matter of hours. Once we reach there…" That was as far as Jack had told his dear friend. Barbossa's right hand drifted to the handle of his sword which hung by his side. He could see his fingers tensing with Jack's words. The captain paused, mildly interested with Barbossa's purpose, but then finished.

"…We head thirty-four degrees due North West." Jack suddenly felt exhausted.

Barbossa gripped his sword but did not pull it out of the scabbard.

"I believe ye've been saved, Jack, from something mighty terrible."

Jack did not answer, but smiled weakly.

"How about a drink of rum?"

"You know what lies on my priorities, Barbossa." Jack managed a grin as a sailor came up to them with two mugs.

"To the treasure!" said Barbossa.

"To Isla de Muerta," said Jack. Their mugs clacked and the two pirates drank to their destination.


	3. Trepidation

            The soft creaking of the _Black Pearl_ was soothing for a man to sleep. Every sailor that had been tossing and turning for sleep was almost immediately dead to the world from the _Black Pearl's lullaby. Every man, that is, except Captain Jack Sparrow._

            Jack Sparrow was unlike other pirates. He would not be easily pacified from the sounds of his ship. He felt like he was betraying his ship since his own beauty could not sing him to sleep.

            _Not tonight, love. He told her silently._

            The soft swaying of the ship caused items to slightly move back and forth. Jack's bed was nailed to the floor so he had no fear he would go sailing across the room. He lay on his white sheets with his back against the head of the bed. He wore his usual white long shirt, dark blue vest, weathered ripped pants, and cream and cherry sash around his waist. His sailor's coat, hat, and sword hung on a peg on the wall and his boots were askew beside his bed. Jack looked as one in deep thought. Perhaps that was the reason he could not fall asleep.

            _Why am I so worried? Jack asked himself. _I trust Barbossa, why am I afraid to let him know where the Isle is?__

            The thing was that he had sensed a strange air among his crew. He didn't feel loyalty in them. The black cloud above his ship had reflected in their hearts. He felt Barbossa was right with the fact that a mutiny was possible. Now that Jack had told Barbossa where the treasure lay, he should've felt relieved. But he didn't. Was there a change in Barbossa?

            _Stop it. Jack scolded himself. __What are ye talking about? Barbossa is yer friend! One of the only two ye trust completely! Barbossa committing mutiny, especially after ye told him where the treasure was, is just stupid._

Jack finally felt somewhat at peace as he came to this reasonable conclusion. He lay his head against the wooden board of the bed and let his arms drop beside him. His eyes finally drooped and closed.

            _A pirate's life for me…_

~

            The doors swung open to yield to the cavern a likely character. The brawls, the conversations, the games did not cease to greet him. A bottle flew across the room and hit the wall and was no longer whole. Luckily it missed the one who had just entered.

            His eyes searched through the crowd until he found a table with one man. He pushed his way through the fighting men until he had sat down across from the loner. The cloaked man held his hand up, showing two fingers to the bartender who somehow noticed them from behind his barkeep. He scurried to their table and set two mugs down. The bartender paid no more notice to either of the men as he went back to important business.

            "Thank ye," said Jack as he lifted the mug to his lips.

            The cloaked figure also took a sip from his mug, but said nothing.

            Jack wiped his mouth and set the mug down.

            "What do ye got for me, Hunter?"

            Hunter looked up, allowing some light to reach his face. He was a man with long brown hair, scraggly from years on the run. He had thick black eyebrows that were set over strange eyes. Strange being that Jack couldn't quite tell what color they were.  Great pirate he was, but he couldn't tell the color of a man's eyes – it was ironic. A large scar traced beside his eye and eyebrow, threatening to make him blind. His skin held cracks that life and age had given him, age that Jack hardly knew himself, nor was familiar with.

            "This be different, Jack."

            The opposite pirate hunched over to listen better.

            "This is a new treasure, very dangerous. I still hesitate to give it to ye."

            Jack grinned. "Now ye know ye can trust me, mate." It is _I who can't trust _you_._

            "That I can't," said Hunter, with still no smile upon his face. "You're a dishonest man, Jack. I can't put it blunter."

            "My honesty," the captain started as he leaned back in his chair, "is not an issue here. What IS an issue is how I handle this. I'm a very good man at handling things, eh?"

            "This might be more than ye can handle. This is no ordinary plundering."

            "What do ye mean by all this?" Jack said carelessly and slightly impatient.

            This time, Hunter leaned forward.

            "This treasure is Aztec gold."

            Jack laughed.

            "Owner by Cortés," Hunter continued. "Sounds pretty innocent, eh? Pretty easy?"

            "Aye!" Jack almost shouted with laughter.

            "WRONG!" Hunter bellowed. He slammed his mug on the table, startling Jack and causing him to almost drop his own mug.

            "It is cursed, Jack. Cursed for his greed."

            Jack sighed.

            "Curses, Hunter? And I was expecting the werewolf."

            "No jokin', mate. I have seen what it does."

            "Cut it, Hunter. What are the bearings? I want to get back to me Pearl."

            Hunter looked desperately at Jack. He started but a pistol appeared from beneath a coat, and not his own.

            "Give me…the bearings."

            Hunter scowled.

            "I warned ye, Jack, and I warn yer crew. Once you, IF you ever get that cursed treasure, I want you to never bother me again. I will not give you any more." Hunter paused and almost smiled. "That treasure can last a man many lifetimes. Ye'll be needin' me no more."

            Jack was undaunted.

            "Let's have it, Hunter."

            Hunter finally reached into his coat and pulled out a worn piece of parchment. He looked over it one last time and finally handed it over to the captain. Jack placed it inside his own coat without looking at it.

            "Thank ye." Jack finished his mug and set it down. He stood up in his chair and started to leave. He turned around and faced Hunter, who hadn't moved.

            "I'll see ye around, Hunter."

            Hunter desolately looked up at Jack.

            "No ye won't," he said with a hint of anger.

~

            Jack was awake but he didn't open his eyes. He could feel something wasn't right. His right hand carefully, slowly moved towards under his pillow where his pistol lay hidden. His hand closed around the handle.

            His eyes shot open and his hand flew from behind the pillow, holding the gun. All for naught. A hard object met his face and Jack felt his neck crack with the blow. He immediately fell unconscious.


	4. Nightmare

            This time, the soft creaking of the _Pearl_ woke Captain Sparrow. He usually could remember why something pained him when he woke up, but not this time. As his eyes became accustomed to the new bright light, he realized that he could hardly open his right eye. He tried to lift his hand to touch it but found his hands were bound.

            With his only working eye, he gazed over what he found to be the bow of the ship. He was sitting crookedly near the steering wheel, and was apparently tied against the side of the ship. The crew was still working the ship's needs as if nothing was wrong. Ropes being tightened, the floor being swabbed clean, and men climbing the masts to keep the sails in check.

            "It looks as if ye're in a tight situation, Jack."

            Jack looked to his right and saw the tall conquistador swaying with the boat, his hand idly on the wheel, and a grin plastered on his face.

            Jack tried to speak but his throat was too dry.

            "It migh' be be'er if ye listen instea', Jack," said Barbossa coolly. He walked around the wheel and stopped in front of Jack, staring down at him with inferiority in his eyes.

            "There been a change o' plans. We've been waitin' long enough and finally ye gave us the bearnin's. So now we plan to be on our way to the treasure. But I'm afraid ye aren't comin' along."

            Jack's heart skipped a beat. He coughed in surprise, but still couldn't speak.

            "We've found a good island for ye, Jack, one that perhaps ye'll die quick on." Barbossa spoke lightly as if discussing the weather. "O' course, we'll leave ye a shot in case ye get that desperate. We ain't gonna take away _all_ of yer privileges."

            Jack's breathing became quick and short.

            "I's a mutiny," Jack croaked out.

            "Took ye long enough," Barbossa said carelessly. "I'd call it a change to the be'er. After all, three months." He shook his head. "I think under new leadership we'd get somewhere in a few days."

            Jack felt a sting in his heart, and his head. He felt something dripping down his face. When he looked onto the deck, he saw splatters of blood.

            Barbossa kneeled down to be at Jack's eye level. He felt his hand grab his chin and make him face the smooth yet evil face that he had once trusted. Barbossa stared deep into his eyes, penetrating his mind.

            "I thought we'd have some luck soon," he said quietly with a slight grin. He pushed away Jack's face and resumed to his standing position. The winds were blowing mighty fine, causing the ship to sail at at least 18 knots. Random sprays from the water would find their way to the deck, stay awhile, and then slither back home.

            "Ye cur!" Jack breathed out angrily. "Piece of filth! Burn in hell for what ye're doing!"

            Barbossa kicked Jack in the stomach. He would have doubled over but he was tied tight to the railing. He did manage to let out a loud groan and he coughed uncontrollably, trying to catch his breath. He felt a slash of pain in his stomach and he knew that whoever had dealt the blow earlier would leave a scar on his face, but he couldn't see it yet. His legs were cramped up beneath him in an uncomfortable position. Betrayal filled his heart. The pain was overwhelming.

            "Don' talk," Barbossa spat out. "Get ye in worse trouble. Don't want a meetin' with the cat do ye?"

            Jack stayed silent as a group of men approached Barbossa. One emerged from the group and stepped forward.

            "The isle is comin' up, Cap'n Barbossa," he informed Barbossa, with a slight slur in his voice.

            "Cap'n?!" Jack exclaimed in surprise.

            The informer looked disgustedly at Jack while Barbossa proceeded to silence him with another kick. This time, Jack felt blood on his tongue and against his teeth.

            "Quiet, inferior!" Barbossa roared. He turned back to the informant.

            "Excellent, Dog Ear. We'll be ready soon to toss 'im overboard."

            The pirate called Dog Ear grinned, showing pink and black gums with a few teeth showing.

            Suddenly a commotion grew from around the captain's quarters. There were shouts and sounds of a struggle. Jack tried to stretch to the left to see if he could see anything, but the other mates were in the way. He heard the sound of a blade swishing through the air, and following it a cry of pain. Shouts bellowed from angry men and another louder howl of pain erupted from a different man.

            The mob was broken in half as a young man burst through the crowd, closely followed by more mutineers. The young man was a good size smaller than Barbossa but he looked ferocious none the less. His long bronze hair was tied loosely into a ponytail, with stray hairs whipping across his face. His brown eyes were determined and taking in the scene before him. A cutlass was in his hand and he was waving it before himself to ward off any who dared come close. It was the same man that had entered Jack's cabin the morning before.

            "'E got loose, Captain," a tall dark skinned pirate growled from behind the mob. "Cut 'imself somehow, Scarus and Nipperkin weren't keepin' a good watch on 'im." As the tall dark pirate talked, two other pirates fell forward, one holding a hand just above his left eye, blood streaming down his cheek, the other holding a hand right over his right eye, but with darker thicker blood running down his face. Both were moaning in pain.

            "'E cut me eye out!" wailed the taller one, pulling his arm away to reveal a bloody hole where his eye should've been. Jack winced at the sight but did not look away.

            "Cut a bloody slice into me 'ead!" roared the stouter one, revealing a four inch bleeding gash that started over his eyebrow and wound back to the beginning of his balding head.

            "Enough!" Barbossa snarled. "I'll deal with ye two later." He turned his attention to the escaped victim.

            "What d'ye think ye can achieve by escapin', hm? Gonna' take all of us on, are ye?"

            The angry man raised his cutlass to the apparent new captain's throat, and at the same time several pistols rose into the air.

            "I'm not going to let ye do this, Barbossa," the gentleman growled.

            "And 'ow are ye gonna stop me? Stop _us_?" Barbossa emphasized. "Ye may 'ave got Regatti and Pintel, but there are many more of us." He raised his arm to show the newcomer the several pistols pointed at him.

            "I'll die trying," he spat out. "Jack is the true Captain."

            Jack smiled faintly at the compliment.

            Barbossa leaned nearer to the escapee.

            "Tha's true. Ye'll die tryin'." Two men grabbed the man from behind, making him drop his weapon and fall backwards back into custody.

            "Miscreant!" he shouted before being muffled by a red cloth they tied around his mouth.

            "Gents! Let 'im stay and watch!" Barbossa lifted his hands up in celebration and the pirates cheered in unison. While they continued to cheer, Barbossa turned back to Jack.

            "Think ye're ready for a swim, mate?"

            "Barbossa," Jack wheezed out, "Why are ye doing this? We're so close and ye're throwing it all away!"

            "No Jack," Barbossa countered, "I'm tryin' t' save what ye threw away long ago. Ye lost these men, Jack, and ye lost me with 'em. The only bloody fool that still follows ye is ruddy Bootstrap." Barbossa signaled to the tied up prisoner and laughed as he struggled from the grasp of the pirates.

            "These men are getting' what ye promised them at last. But we can no longer follow ye. So we've decided yer fate." Barbossa reached behind Jack to untie him from the railing, but not completely. He held the ropes in his grasp and pulled Jack along down the small steps to a naked area with no railing.

            "This be yer stop, Jack." Barbossa pushed him slightly forward.

            Jack was unstable on his feet. He almost fell as Barbossa gave him a little push. Only moments ago he was the command of the ship and crew, the head of the expedition, and the navigator of the _Black Pearl_. He had been living large in his cabin with hardly a worry…except for the black cloud that had appeared above his ship and crew two days ago. _It was a sign. _Jack told himself. _And I failed to heed it._

"Now 'ere's yer pistol." Barbossa stuck the gun in Jack's belt, since he obviously couldn't grab it. "And now is the time for ye to take a dive. Say g'bye, Jack Sparrow. The _Pearl_ is mine."

            Jack's face heated with anger. He had to do something.

            "A duel," Jack whispered, since he could hardly speak loud with his coarse throat. "I challenge you…to a duel."

            The mob quieted down to a mutter. Barbossa held up his hand to silence them completely.

            "Wha' d'ye' mean by that, Jack?" Barbossa actually sounded interested. Of course, an opportunity to show off his fighting skills.

            Jack coughed and tasted blood.

            "If I win, I stay and keep my rightful title." Barbossa growled. "If I don't, then ye have yer way."

            Barbossa looked at his men thoughtfully and then turned to grin at his prisoner.

            "I' sounds like an accord." He nodded his head to his crew and two men came forward to cut loose Jack's ropes. They retreated as Jack wrung his hands. He touched his right eyebrow where he felt a large cut that was bleeding down his face. His eye felt swollen shut and covered with blood.

            Barbossa brought forth another sword and tossed it to Jack, who clumsily dropped it, causing the audience to laugh heartily. Jack bent over to pick it up from the floor, feeling dizzy from pain. His coordination was off greatly, and he feared that he would lose. His hand touched the hilt of the sword and his fingers enclosed it, gripping it tightly and lifting it to point at Barbossa. He turned his head to see Barbossa, who pulled his own sword from its scabbard.

            "Think yer up to this, Jack?" Barbossa mockingly questioned.

            Jack coughed his reply, still feeling the bitter taste of blood in his mouth.

            Barbossa didn't wait for a reply. He plunged into battle with one-eyed Jack relentlessly.

            As Jack desperately blocked Barbossa's attacks, he felt his limbs getting heavier and slower. He couldn't keep up with Barbossa's fast moves and agility. He staggered backwards as his opponent threw a slash at Jack's arm, causing a bright red cut to appear. Jack inhaled sharply at the wound, before letting his sword fly into Barbossa's face. Jack heard a raging howl emerge from the adversary.

            "Bastard!" Barbossa shouted at Jack, as he tenderly touched a large cut beneath his right eye. He pounced back into battle, ignoring the searing pain on his face. He finally slashed his sword against Jack's, causing the sword to drop from his hand. Barbossa slashed at Jack's belly, causing him to double over and fall to the ground.

            _No._ Jack protested to himself. _I can't stop._

Barbossa's boot met with Jack's head and Jack sprawled onto his back, groaning.

            "I's over, Jack. Ye've lost." Barbossa sheathed his sword and stepped forward. "I'm the new captain. And ye're as good as dead." Barbossa knelt down and grabbed Jack's collar, pulling the wheezing man to his feet. Jack's eyes rolled back into his head. He breathed heavily and blood dripped from his mouth, eyebrow, and torn shirt. He desperately tried to release the hold Barbossa had on his collar, but he was not strong enough.

            "Goodbye, Jack Sparrow." Barbossa grinned maliciously.

            Bootstrap pulled free from his hold and ripped the bandana from his mouth.

            "NO!" Bootstrap yelled as Barbossa released his hold and Jack fell overboard.


	5. Escape within

The water stung like an angry wasp. It wasn't much of an issue at the moment. The real problem was perhaps trying to get on land.

Jack Sparrow struggled from underwater, ferociously kicking his now rope-free legs and waving his arms, trying to get above water where he belonged. His one working eye was open and searching for something to grab hold of. A few Caribbean fishes darted from his flailing body.

This time, swimming was imperative for his very survival. His many years of being thrown overboard from squalls had trained him for situations such as this. It was no different from other times, except for the reason WHY he was overboard. The thoughts were only slowing down his progress, so he pushed them from his aching head and fought with the angry sea. The darker sea beneath him tried to pull him away from the surface. The blackness seemed to suffocate him and trap him in the ever wavering liquid. Once again, his quickening heartbeat reached his eardrums and pulsed in his brain. Time itself slowed, as it had several times before, but never as close as this. His limbs were weakening and starting to give in to the ocean's urges.

Then there came an unexpected surprise. Jack felt plasmatic sand beneath his feet, which soon turned to more compact and foot worthy stepping stones. His head rose above the surface and he inhaled sharply, almost taking in water. He stumbled onto the shore, still swaying as an after effect from the raging sea. He fell on hands and knees, feeling the grains between his fingers. His body shuddered as he coughed up some salty distasteful water, along with some light blood. Only one thing then ran through his mind. _The Pearl_. He painfully twisted around to gaze at the horizon. The black ship was moving away, destined for the _Isla de Muerta_. Jack was not with her. He saw her sails fading away behind forming clouds. In about half an hour they would no longer be visible.

Jack's lips trembled slightly. His mind fell blank as did his features. Then with a thump, his body and head hit the earth and he was out cold.

"MOVE!" Jack said as he pushed another man forward. He quickly followed his friend through the darkened alleyway. His agility was somewhat hindered from the huge bow in his hands and his concentration was half on its safety, making sure it didn't hit anything.

The alleyway ended at a corner. The cloaked figure Jack had pushed ahead backed against the wall, breathing heavily from the effort of running. Jack caught up and set the bow down momentarily. It almost teetered over onto the ground, but the figure grabbed hold of it before it could. His fingers stroked the smooth, polished wood lovingly. An image of the _Black Pearl_ appeared in his thoughts. He was sure his friend felt the same about his weapon as he did for his ship.

The character, who had been stroking the bow, pulled back his hood, revealing his stern yet handsome face. Dark amber ringlets flowed to his shoulders. His face was hollow and smooth, not a scar to be seen except one that curved around his eye, splitting his eyebrow in two. His eyes were determined and of no true color, flashing with emotion.

"Do ye think we lost 'em?" he said with a low, scratchy voice.

"No," Jack said confidently and quietly. "They aren't high authority for losing renegades of the crown easily." He listened intently for following footsteps as his friend nodded in concurrence.

"This might be safe 'round the corner," Jack said. "Be swift!"

They both turned around the corner and dashed down another silent alley, bow in Jack's hand once again.

"What I do for you and yer bloody piece of wood," Jack growled between breaths. Although Jack couldn't see it, the figure blushed slightly.

"I's no ordinary weapon," he retorted. "I'm nothin' without that bow. Lightning struck that tree and --"

"We all know that tale, Hunter. Save it for later if we escape the gallows."

They had reached another corner. The alley was still silent, almost suspicious. Jack used a hand to hold Hunter back.

"Hear somethin', Jack?"

"No," Jack said once again. "That's what concerns me." His hand drifted to his belt and he pulled out an elegant black pistol. He cocked it, the metal sound bouncing off the brick and tarred walls.

"I hear nothing," Hunter told Jack, his tone showing off a faint hint of German accent. He lifted his bow and gripped it tightly. "What ye need that for?" Jack lifted a finger to his lips, indicating silence was needed. His thumb twitched over the back of the gun. In a lightning moment, he turned the corner and pointed his gun at nothing. No one was there. Hanging wash on lines of string swayed slightly in a ghostlike breeze. Jack gritted his teeth in frustration as he put his pistol away, unlocking the hammer.

"S'nothing," Hunter said mockingly.

Two shots exploded in the darkness. Jack staggered and fell to the ground. Hunter immediately pulled an arrow from behind his back and adjusted it to his bow, waiting behind the corner until he thought it ready to reveal himself. He turned his arrow around the corner and let it fly, meeting its target through the heart. The soldier was dead before his skull met the dirt floor. More bullets whizzed through the air, coming from behind unseen crates and wagons. Hunter hid behind the corner once again, pulling out another arrow. Each time he turned back to his enemies, he would let another arrow fly, each time hitting its goal. It was little effort for Hard-fisted Hunter, the best known living archer. Soon, ten more bodies were sprawled on the dirt road. The alley was quiet once more.

Hunter set his bow against the wall once again before he kneeled down beside the fallen pirate, his auburn curls falling into his face. Red flowers of blood had bloomed on his chest, two burnt black holes showing the source. Hunter sighed as he lifted Jack's hand to feel for a pulse.

"Lucky bastard," he muttered to himself. "Lucky they missed yer heart or ye'd be dancin' with the dead by now." The archer grunted as he lifted Jack over his shoulder, weighed down only slightly from Jack's body. He grabbed his bow with his free hand and continued down the darkened alley.

Jack awoke, face in the sand and sun burning ever brighter above him. He groaned as he sat up, wiping the grains from his face. He swallowed with his dry throat, feeling a burn for rum or even water. Then he remembered where he was.

Jack turned around abruptly, cracking his cramped bones. The _Black Pearl_ was no longer sailing the horizon within his sight. If only Barbossa had finished him off on deck, then he wouldn't have to hurt so bad right now.

Front now facing the open sea, Jack surveyed what he could see without getting up. The uneven sandy beach was being swallowed and spat back out by the incoming tide, eating any small footprints made by the occasional sidestepping crab. Sometimes the waves would bring in pieces of broken coral, scattering them jaggedly along the shore. Farther inland was a grassy area, blockaded by palm and deciduous trees. The sporadic rock or shrub was placed at intervals between the trees. A small forest could be seen farther in, giving passage to unknown territory. The branches and leaves didn't sway, as there was no wind. The only sound he could hear distinctly was the familiar sound of the advancing waves.

But he didn't get up to explore this assumed deserted island. He didn't go in search of food or water. Heretofore Captain Jack Sparrow sat in the sand, staring at the horizon with deep longing. Not an eyelash moved nor a joint twitched unless it was absolutely necessary. If only a man, a pirate, could cry. Perhaps that would be able to break his trance. But there was no way he could shed a tear for his girl. The only tears he had were from the flecks of sea water that sprayed his face.

The sun began to hide behind the distant horizon, blazing the sky brilliant hues of crimson, ginger, and violet. White lines that reflected the stars above danced on the surface of the water. Jack had not moved for hours, still staring at the ship that was no longer there. If he stared long enough, she would sometimes appear, the outline barely showing before disappearing once again like a ghost. He remembered betraying her when she tried to rock him to sleep. Wasn't this too harsh a punishment? He looked down at himself, his clothes no longer wet from his earlier swim and his feet covered with sand. He had left several of his effects in his quarters, including his boots, coat, and hat. He didn't even have his sword, dropping it when he had lost the battle on board. It wasn't a big issue. The only thing that mattered was that Barbossa had stolen his ship from him. _Kill me now, _he thought, _but don't take my vessel. _He could imagine Barbossa at her wheel, roughly turning the wheel to head in the direction of a different island. He was the murdered husband and Barbossa was the rapist, dragging his woman away from him, his defeating laughter ringing in his dead ears.

Jack cursed loudly, jumping to his feet and running out to shore. His feet met the freezing water, washing away any sand particles.

"COME BACK!" Jack shouted into the darkness. "COME BACK HERE YE DAMN MISCREANT! I'LL SLASH YER BELLY OPEN AND FEED YE TO THE SHARKS! COME BACK, DAMMIT!" Jack kicked the water up, scaring unseen night fish. "SHE'S MINE! THE _PEARL_ IS MINE! THIEVIN' BASTARD!"

His angry words rang through the night but soon disappeared. He gave the innocent waters one last kick before turning back around and trudging through the sand. Night had almost completely revealed itself, but enough light was left for Jack to find a tree to sit by. He leaned against the bumpy bark and sighed, his heart beating in his throat and perspiration forming on his forehead and chest. Pain shot through his cuts and head, his heart as well, a heart that was not settled.

Jack remembered Hunter's warning as he had given him the bearings. He bitterly hoped that Hunter's words were true and his old crew met their worst. Jack felt for something in his pocket and pulled out the bit of parchment he had been holding for over a month. Spider script was scrawled over the top of the paper, giving vague directions to the island of death. Underneath it was a messy drawing, a coin with a skull in the centre. Jack wasn't sure what it meant, but he made sure that he could recognize the drawing. The paper was faded and close to falling apart from being in the water. He carefully folded the paper back up and pocketed it.

Hunter had been bound to a contract, one that was surely broken as of now. Jack remembered vividly the day it had been written.

There was a knock on the door. Jack cocked his pistol.  
"Who's there?" he called out.  
"I's me," a low familiar voice said from behind the door.

Jack placed his pistol back on the small table beside his bed. "Come in."

The wooden door opened to yield Hunter. He closed it quietly beside him.

"How are ye?" Hunter directed towards Jack who was lying on the single bed.

"Better, I s'ppose," Jack said lazily. "That is for one who took two bullets to the chest." He lightly touched the white bandage under his shirt.

"Aye," Hunter said simply. His russet coat fluttered as he moved across the room to sit in the wooden chair by Jack's bed. Jack's eyes followed the man, intent on some inner thought.

"I didn't see it coming," Jack said with a slight hint of regret.

"Nor did I," Hunter replied. "But ye pulled through, didn't ye?"

"That I did," the wounded pirate whispered, somewhat distracted. A moment of silence followed before Hunter spoke again.

"Somethin' ye need me for, Jack?"

Jack clasped his hands together, wetting his dry lips and raising an eyebrow, as if getting ready for a magnificent speech.

"I think I need a bit or repayment, Hunter."

Hunter's eyebrows furrowed in concern, his strange eyes flashing to a shade of green.

"What do you mean?"

Jack sighed. "I agreed to help you get yer bow back, but I didn't agree to a conflict with the Royal Armies. You make yerself fine enemies."

Hunter frowned but said nothing.

"This," Jack said, patting his wound lightly and grimacing, "Is what I get for a simple retrieval of a bow? Are you out of yer bloomin' mind?"

"I've told ye how important this bow is," Hunter said, reaching back to touch the smooth wood. "I'm nothing without it and I needed help to get it back." He looked at the opposite wall, away from Jack. "These things happen sometimes…"  
"I'll have none of that," Jack said sternly. "Now listen closely. I think a few years of service from ye would be sufficient enough, eh?"

"WHAT?!" Hunter yelled, whipping back around to face Jack.

"Yer a smart man, Hunter, a man of the world. You know where things are, where things are hidden. I say you owe me some bearings, hm?"

"I know nothing of the sort," Hunter growled back.

"You might not. But you will find them, won't you?"

Hunter snarled. "What makes you think I'll comply with this?"

Jack blinked as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Well, if it comes to that, then I guess the world won't be much sorry to hear the name of Hard-fisted Hunter die out so soon. It's a simple task, mate." Jack pulled open a drawer and retrieved a crisp page with writing on it. He handed it to Hunter who took it and looked over its contents.

"You made a bloody contract?" Hunter asked accusingly.

"Yes," Jack said slowly. "It's to back up your word, if you will indeed give it."

Hunter finished reading the contract and looked up at Jack. The task Jack was asking him was simple enough, but the feeling of being under his control was too constraining. This was typical piratical business, but he didn't like it. If he refused the contract…he didn't want to think about what could happen. Hunter knew he was good, but he also knew Jack's power. He was no ordinary pirate, not one to take lightly. This would change their camaraderie quite a bit. He held his palm out and Jack placed an inked quill in his hand. Hunter touched the tip to the paper and signed his name in his usual spider script. He handed the quill and paper to Jack who tucked them into the drawer once again.

"Don't leave here bitter, Hunter," Jack assured him. "This should change nothing."

Hunter looked over his gnarled hands, clenching and unclenching them. They always pained him and he constantly moved them around, trying to at least dull the hurting. He got up from the chair and turned his back on Jack, walking to the door.

"Hunter!"

He stopped, back still to Jack and the door open.

"I'd like my first destination by next week, savvy?"

Hunter paused, the words soaking in. Then he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

It was completely dark now. The light from the stars was not sufficient to any nighttime activity.

Jack let out a deep sigh and leaning back fully against the tree, he closed his eyes, remembering the soothing rock of his ship. His heart ached for what had been taken from him. He fingered the bullet shaped scars on his chest before letting his hand drop to his side, the crashing waves finally pulling him into fitful slumber.


	6. Diversion Part I

            _I don't want to open my eyes…I don't want to see…ever again…_

He opened his eyes and bolted up to a sitting position. He swallowed a pitiful cry. This wasn't the island. The contents of his cabin stared back at him expectantly.

            "What…what is this?" he finally choked out, his rough, intimidating voice now wavering with shock. Everything was just the way it had been before…He fingered his eyebrow, surprised to feel no sign of blood. Even his eye wasn't swollen. Taking in a deep breath, he stood up, suddenly aware of the gentle rocking of the ship he shouldn't be on. He looked behind him to see the bed he had been sleeping on, its covers turned back to accommodate his sleeping body. Brows furrowed, eyes glistening with puzzlement, he wandered around the cabin he had been living in for the past five years, now seeming unfamiliar to him. He could almost feel his girl scowling at him for his foreignness on her.

            As he wandered around the room, his touched various items. He could still feel the polished wood of the small desk, the soft feather of the quill he often used, the leather like covers of the books on their shelves. But they didn't feel like they were _his._

The sound of the door opening and slamming against the wall interrupted his investigation. He turned around quickly, in the middle of an action to pull out one of his books. Through his black tangled hair mixed with chinking beads, he saw a tall, burly man in the doorway.

            "What are **you **doing in here?" he roared at Jack. He took a few steps forward and slammed the door behind him with ferocity of one who meant to kill. "You think I want to see **you**?"

            Jack tried to think of something to say but his mouth had gone dry.

            "I thought you'd be that way," the man replied to his silence. "Didn't expect me to find out what you'd done, did ye? Well, now I'm here and I know." As the men stepped out of the shadow, Jack stifled a gasp. Long brown hair was tied behind the man's head in a ponytail, several loose strands falling into his face. He wore the typical clothing of a tradesman or a fisherman. Behind the waving strands of hair, Jack saw the skull. The man had no flesh over his face, no muscle or tendon.

            "What a disgrace you are!" the skull yelled at him. "You were meant to be better than this, you damn sea rat!" The man began to stride forward, his hands raised into fists. Jack took a step backward just as the room lurched dangerously and the lights went out.

            Jack awoke once more with sand everywhere. He lifted his head, groaning from not being used to sleeping on dry sand. His eyes wandered over the trees, the rocks, and finally the sea.

            "It would be much easier to sleep if I'd stop having dreams…" he grumbled to himself. The remnants of his last dream had already sifted away, leaving him with nothing but the remembrance of having one.

            "I'm not a bloody fortune teller," he argued to no one. "Can't a man sleep in peace?" He stood up, wiping the sand off of his dirty garments. He heaved a sigh, the full blast of being marooned on this pitiful island washing over him once again. He bit back several curses, knowing that they wouldn't do him any good besides making him angrier. Angry pirates were a usual thing, but he couldn't work with that right now. He glared out to the ocean, the ghost of his _Pearl_still waiting for him to swim out to her. Pulling a stray dreadlock out of his face, he turned from the sea and began to walk down the coast. The sea sang to him, beckoned him. The ground felt so unstable, trying to make him trip. Staring at his path as he walked, Jack could feel his desire for the sea magnifying, the further he veered inland.

To be continued.


	7. Diversion Part II

First there was Hector's voice.

_Jackie...Somethin's out there...in the harbor...pirates..._

And then there was the Spaniard's

_Jus' make sure 'e rememb'rs th' name who ruin'd the remainder 'f his ruddy life...Capt'n Donovan Lee._

But we must go back...

_They're gone, Jackie...they're not comin' back. They're dead._

Dead? What does dead mean?

_Well...it's...it's sorta like goin' t' sleep...cept...y'don't wake up. Never._

He could see the flaming houses of Cardiff...

_Jackie...we hafta go..._

_Don't call me that._

_What? Why shouldn' I call ya by your name??_

_I'm not...Jackie anymore. They called me that and I don't want it anymore._

_Well, what d'ya want me t'call you?_

_Just Jack, please._

He took one more step past the palm tree and stopped. His feet were still on sand but it felt different. Jack shuffled his feet, the sand whipping out of the way to make a small groove into the ground. It was still hard beneath his feet. He knelt down and began wiping the sand away. Dark brown wood revealed itself beneath his fingers as the sand became scarce in the area.

It wasn't long before Jack had uncovered a large three by four foot wooden plank. It was wedged into the rest of the sand, the only apparent mark on it being an oblong hole near one of the edges. He rapped a fist on the wood to hear a hollow sound.

"Now wha' kinda joke'sis?" Jack asked himself aloud. He crawled around to the side of the plank that had the hole. He looked it over for a moment before he placed his fingers in the hole and pulled. It didn't take much strength for the wooden board to lift out of the sand, the wood groaning from being awakened from its slumber. Sand rushed off of the surface, filling the huge hole that Jack had just uncovered. He pulled, pulled, and finally pushed the board back until it slapped onto the soft sand behind the hole. All was silent once again.

He tilted his head slightly to the right, watching the dust settle into the blackness of the hole. It was some kind of trap door that held some kind of chamber secret. With nothing more productive to do, he stuck out a tentative foot into the blackness. It hit something hard and stable. He stuck the other one in after it and stood. It looked like he was floating. A picture of the _Pearl's_ brig flashed through his mind. The darkness, the confinement, the utter feeling of being alone felt all the same. He would give anything to be back in that room.

He descended the steps in a matter of seconds, any thoughts of caution gone. After the last step, his bare feet touched softer, cooler sand. He sat down on the bottom step, trying to squint farther into the darkness.

"'Ello?" His voice thudded to the floor. Apparently, the chamber wasn't large enough to welcome an echo. He grimaced as the mustiness swept under his nostrils.

"What died in 'ere?" he asked himself aloud.

The curiosity got the better of him, so he stuck out his hand to feel for something. A familiar sound hit his ears and he froze, pulling his hand back to his body. His heart pounded in his ears as he stretched his fingers out again. They hit a smooth surface, the familiar sound erupting once again. That clink, that smooth glass; it could only be one thing. He clutched his hand around the smooth neck of the object and brought it up into the fading light of sunset. Light brown liquid shone through the bottle as he wiped the dust away.

"Ahhh," Jack grinned. "So I've hit th' cache, have I?" He shook the bottle a little, watching the liquid swirl around in its graceful dance. Without a second thought, he popped the cork from the bottle and took a swig. It was pure euphoria, the epitome of his own self. He licked his lips, a soft hum of pleasure purring into the cave.

Ten minutes later, the stranded pirate had pulled about half a dozen bottles of alcohol onto the sandy beach and closed the secret hatch, covering it once more with a pile of sand. He was almost giddy as he made his way back to his unofficial camp and sat down. His caressed his fingers over each bottle leaving trails in the dust from his touch. Choosing two long necked bottles, he crawled closer to the tide and stuck the bottom ends into the sand. Once the wave returned, it washed away the dust in a clean sweep, leaving behind two shiny glass bottles that proudly displayed their contents. Jack scurried back to his seat and uncorked one of them.

His second drink of the day told him that he was indeed stranded on this island and it was only a matter of days before he would die and his bones would bleach in the rays of the sun.

The last drink of the bottle washed over his memories, destroyed any negative thoughts that grew from his childhood trauma, the betrayal of his best friend, and his almost certain death.

His fourth and fifth drinks of his new bottle made the waves look fuzzy and solid, the sand now becoming the great mass of water that swallowed him up.

He stumbled a little as he washed a few more rum bottles in the fuzzy waves. He laughed as the sea licked his toes and sang to him funny songs. He sat back down and took another drink. His third bottle made the liquid sand warp up into the sky, melting into the air and invisible stars, making odd shapes he had never seen before.

Finally, his fifth bottle made everything funny, everything happy, everything fake. Who gave a damn about being stranded? Who cared that he no longer was captain of the fastest ship in the Caribbean? Who really even thought that this would be the end of Captain Jack Sparrow?

He squinted into the horizon as two bulky shapes sifted towards him, riding the fuzzy waves in a frenzy.

"Now ye can' jus' come whenever ye like, ye know," Jack said aloud, directing his words towards the growing shapes. "This a private show an' ye need tickets, hm? Whassat? Mmm, sorry can' help ye find yer way back..." It certainly didn't take long for the silhouettes to reach the beach. They were sea turtles with large black eyes and heavy shells.

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed. "You all live on my wall!" The turtles nodded. "Then is best that I get ready to leave. I' won' take long, I promise you. Jus' wait right there, right there, DON'T MOVE!" he shouted. The turtles didn't look frightened. They just stared at him blankly. Jack waved at them with one hand, the other clutching his fifth small bottle. He leaned back far, pouring the rum into his open mouth. The empty bottle then dropped to the sand and he laughed. "I'M STILL AWAKE!" he yelled in triumph. Then he slumped back into the sand and said no more.

Note from the author: The italicized quotes at the beginning of this chapter were collaborated by myself and Queen of Hellions so please give her credit! They are excerpts from an RP called _Golden Sand, _a story she and I wrote about what Jack and Barbossa's past might've been like if they had met as children. If you have any questions about what happened, do not hesitate to ask – I will answer what I see fit to in my biography. Thank you!


End file.
